“Can’t you do it for yourself?” she asked loftily.
Clarence shook his head.
“Now you know I can’t,” he pleaded gently. Then, as she made no answer, he looked out to sea again, and saw that the Scheherazade was dwindling to a little grey point on the horizon. “Now I’ll give you till the yacht is out of sight to make up your mind,” said he.
Then they both looked at the vanishing speck. The moments passed, and neither spoke, though they could hear and almost feel the beating of each other’s heart, and though each felt the silence to be desperately disconcerting.
“It’s gone!” said he.
“No, it isn’t!” cried she.
Both were growing intensely excited. Ella opened her eyes wider and wider, and strained them to the utmost. Clarence tried to speak, but she stopped him by thrusting out her hand right in front of him, holding her breath. He looked down at it for a couple of seconds, and then ventured to take it very gently in his right hand, and to put his left on her shoulder. When he had remained in this position for a few moments, she drew a long breath, and blinked her eyes violently.
“Don’t cry,” said Clarence soothingly, and he stooped and kissed her.
“I haven’t answered you,” she objected, raising her shoulder pettishly.
“Never mind that now. Let me comfort you, and you shall answer me by and by.”